Friday night, Jerry woke me up to tell me that I felt "like lava." Then, he rolled over and went back to sleep. 7 or 8 years ago, I think he would've stayed awake long enough to offer to get me something. As it is, after 7 years of marriage and two kids, I guess I'm on my own when sick.
So, I got up to check my temp (102, BTW), got some aspirin, some water, and went back to bed. Later, I woke up so drenched in sweat that I had to get up, change my clothes, and chose to go to sleep on the couch rather than get back in under the sweaty sheets.
In a sense, that was my weekend: Fever, accompanied by sore throat, congestion, and ears so plugged I can barely hear. Yippie! Isn't that how everyone wants to spend their weekend?
Meanwhile, as for the running, on Friday night, Jerry says to me: "Do you think it's a good idea to keep running?"
Argh! I've been asking him that question for 2 weeks and the gist of his advice has been: "Do whatcha want, honey."
I told him: "Well, I'm only a few days away from reaching 100 days; I can't stop until at least then. I'll just run 1 milers all weekend."
Him: "Yeah, but...are you really gonna stop at 100 days? That's your record. I don't think you're gonna be happy just tying that; you're gonna want to go to 150 days or 200 days, or 365 days."
Ummm...so after 7 years of marriage I guess he won't fetch aspirin, but he does know me.
So, I ran the requisite 1 milers all weekend, which was disappointing when I'd had high hopes mid-week last week, but c'est la vie. I'm trying not to dwell on what I'm not accomplishing and trying to remind myself of what I am accomplishing.
And, today? Today is day #100.